


To the Brink

by v_darkstar



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dubious Consent, Feeding Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_darkstar/pseuds/v_darkstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo sneaks into Thranduil's chambers with the hopes of persuading him to let his companions go. Instead he is presented with a full course meal and an Elvenking that just wants to watch him eat. </p><p>(Filled for a prompt at the kink meme that requested feeding kink with Bilbo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I'm still finishing off the next half of this but I'd thought I'd post the first 2,100 words now while I complete the rest. This part is more like a buildup but I hope you enjoy it regardless. I'd say that I blame The Mortal Instruments for the delay but that's more my fault, ah.

 

 

To the Brink; Part 1

 

Diplomatic discussion was never anything Bilbo Baggins, respectable Hobbit of the Shire, had ever thought to add to his seemingly ever growing list of skills. Sure, he had his fair share of pulling younger cousins apart when family meetups got a little too rowdy, but that didn't mean he was fit for, well, for this.

The Elvenking was just as ethereal as Elrond and his kin at Rivendell --maybe even more so with his long pale hair and pretty eyelashes -- but even after being in his company for barely ten minutes Bilbo had already decided he preferred High Elves to Wood Elves. Thranduil had a beauty that could almost rival Galadriel's but Bilbo felt on edge the entire time the other had been speaking. After the confrontation with the Giant Spiders they had all thought they may get some respite in the dark forest of Mirkwood, but then not only had they been drugged earlier but then they were being captured and shackled by some of the most frightening and yet fairest looking people he'd ever seen.

He'd never been so glad to have run into Gollum than when he'd been able to slip the ring on and escape the threatening figures.

After checking on everyone else and ensuring they had enough food to survive, Bilbo slipped away from the dark dungeons and crept quietly into the looming halls that never seemed to end.

But while Bilbo Baggins may have enough Took in him go in a quest to defeat a dragon, he'd never been an overly violent person. With this resolve, he decided to try and speak with the Elvenking and if that didn't go so well he could always slip the ring back on and flee. There were risks to this though; Thranduil could be just as infamous as Thorin made him out to be and order his men to kill the Dwarves in captivity the minute Bilbo appeared, but he hadn't so far and Bilbo was hopefully counting on the fact that Hobbits were known to be the type gentlefolk that don't normally go off adventuring so that'd hopefully gain him some leeway. He couldn't imagine Mirkwood getting too many Halflings running around wild, and even less in the company of Dwarves.

Sneaking into the Elvenking's private chambers was easy enough but Bilbo didn't want to reveal his disappearing trick too early on in the game, so before knocking he slipped the ring off and breathed deeply.

The plan was to somehow get to Thranduil and try reason with him without getting captured or killed. Just a simple discussion and then he'd either run away or have good results. The only rule was that he couldn't tell the Elvenking about their plan to reclaim Erebor. If he needed to tell him something then Bilbo would just play oblivious and say that the others were his close friends that wanted to know if he wanted to go exploring with them.

Steeling himself, he knocked loud three times and waited. But when the doors parted, two anonymous Elves greeted him with startled expressions instead of Thranduil. One of them rushed back into the room while the other quickly restrained Bilbo. He could hear mumbled talking of two voices from behind the door and strained against the tight grip on his wrists to try and listen clearer. Not two minutes later did the previous Elf return and whisper something to his partner. With matching frowns, they gripped him roughly and pushed him into the room. He stumbled ungracefully, barely righting himself before he tumbled to the floor.

Thranduil was seated at an extravagant wooden carved chair, one clear glass in his hand, and a dark eyebrow raised.

Bilbo swallowed thickly, wincing at the bruising grip on his forearm, and spoke, "I was wondering if I could have a word with you, please." He lowered his eyes and head in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture.

Thranduil did not move from his chair but his deep voice resounded throughout the room, "And what, pray tell me, is a humble Hobbit doing in Mirkwood?"

Bilbo resisted smiling -- his plan counting on the Elvenking's curiosity seemed possible to work with -- and schooled his features to wide-eyed shock, "I was travelling through these dreadful, dark woods when I got separated from the others. You see, I've been out with thirteen of my close friends exploring all the wonders of Middle-Earth when we came across this place that they said was something called 'Mirkwood' and everything became a little too surreal."

All the years of convincing his father that no he hadn't been out climbing trees all day came in helpful and Bilbo forced a shudder through his small frame, "We were searching for some food to eat when these giant spiders came out of nowhere and attacked us. I was able to run away before they could get me, b-but I think my friends got captured. I tried to looking but I couldn't find them."

Chancing a glance up, he saw Thranduil's lips pressed into a thin line and noticed that the hands on his arms had already loosened enough that he could move them, "I kept looking for what seemed like hours until I found this place. I came through some almost hidden door and walked around until I found you. P-Please, if you've seen my friends could you please help me?"

Bilbo has never been a dumb Hobbit and neither has he needed sheltering, but he was smart enough to count on the others not knowing that. He could play the part of a defenceless innocent if it meant he could free his friends. He forced depressing thoughts into his mind until he was able to look up at the Elvenking with watering eyes, "I feel so alone and I'm so worried for them."

He didn't expect Thranduil to miraculously decide to let them all go --and the Elf didn't -- but he was pleasantly surprised to see the Elvenking wave his guards away and motion Bilbo to come closer.

He shuffled pitifully until he reached the tall Elf and followed instruction when he was told to take a seat on the chair opposite the other's.

"Do you know who you're in the company of, little halfling?"

Bilbo nodded, "Yes, Master Thorin has been friends with the family for years! He saved my dear Aunty one time when she wondered too far and got taken by some not so favourable human men. He rode right up and protected her from those foul people!" And Bilbo would have felt guilty about lying so much but right now all that mattered was surviving. He swallowed the niggling lump in his throat and tried to keep his expression earnest.

Thranduil placed his drink on the small table separating them and quirked his lips mirthlessly, "I'm sure that he has been most gracious to your kind, but do you know of him and the line of Durin concerning Erebor?"

Ah, so he was trying to see if the 'oblivious little Hobbit' would cough up any information without realising it, "Durin as in his nephews? Well then, yes. But I'm not quite sure what Erebor is. We don't get much information in the Shire; is Erebor a sort of gem or something?"

It seemed that Thranduil believed him as his expression hardened minutely, "So you really have no idea then, small Hobbit?"

"My name is Bilbo Baggins and I'm not quite sure what it is I'm meant to be knowing. Did the others do something to offend you, kind Lord?"

At this Thranduil paused and took a moment to take Bilbo in head to toe, "It does not matter. I've just never known of one of the Gentlefolk to be out of their land, and it isn't everyday that I chance upon one in my territory." His smile almost looked genuine but the way he spoke next made Bilbo feel like prey almost, "You must be hungry, yes? I'll have one of my men cook you enough food to sate that small stomach of yours. We have much to discuss if I'm to help you find your friends."

Bilbo almost wanted to scream out that he knew Thranduil already had them, but he could take this slowly if need be. If nothing happened then he could always resort to the wine barrels plan tomorrow night.

When Thranduil stood and gestured for Bilbo to follow him, the latter had to scoff under his breath; of course he was being 'escorted' so as to not cause any damage. The unrelenting grip on his shoulder was proof enough for the Hobbit. They didn't walk far -- it was really only through two sets of doors -- before a large room came into view. It was a impressive grand hall, with a long carved table (that seemed to match the previous chair the Elvenking had been in) and almost two dozen dining chairs were aligned on either sides of it. What made Bilbo pause was the fact that half of the table top was already decorated with a wide variety of gourmet foods. Fine salads, warm meat and different bottles of beverages were fully present within silver plates and utensils.

Thranduil noticed his curiosity and graced him with an explanation once they were seated at the furthest foot of the table away from the door, "I have a evening gathering later on in the night and this is the food prepared for that, but I am sure my guests will not miss a helping of it here and there."

Bilbo nodded and sat stiffly, the food smelt and looked gorgeous, and he couldn't deny that his stomach was yearning for some of it. But he was not stupid enough to gorge himself without a contingency plan; he had seen only one guard on their trek here and if he was stealthy enough then he could probably out-run and hide away from him. There was the added point against him though, he didn't know the housing layout out as clearly as Thranduil was sure to, but he did spend a substantial time before making his presence known exploring, and catelogued possible escape routes if their discussion didn't go the way he wanted.

He subtly pulled his steak knife the closest to his hand and smiled at the other.

Thranduil nodded, "Go ahead and eat. We can talk about your lost friends once you're done."

His hunger was winning out so Bilbo smiled a little bit bigger, never mind the fact that it hurt his conscience even more.

He started with a cut of what looked like filleted fish, a slice of waybread, and then piled some of the garden salad onto his plate when Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his half empty dish.

The food definitely tasted just as delectable as it appeared; the fish was cooked to perfection, dusted in just enough herbs to make the flavours really stand out, the lembas surprisingly filling even by a Hobbit's craving standards, and the salad was crisp and refreshing. He couldn't help his raised eyebrows at the foods attacking his taste buds. Thranduil looked amused and continued to drink from a fine glass. Bilbo's throat almost seemed instantaneously dry and he hesitantly reached towards the jug of red wine. His hand met no objection and he poured with renewed vigor.

When his thirst was quenched and his stomach quite full -- from another two servings of each respective dish -- he swallowed and spoke, "So have you seen anything that could be my friends?"

Thranduil paused minutely, "I may have heard some tales of a company travelling through my woods but I must say that I'm uncertain whether or not they are your friends."

Pushing his features into one of surprise, Bilbo looked at the other, "That must be them! We've been walking for a long number of days and we haven't run into any other beings except for those dreadful spiders. Do you know where they are?"

His comment received a small nod, "I'll have to talk to some of my lower men but I may have an idea as to where they may be located." Thranduil smiled at the 'sudden' burst of joy across Bilbo's features, "Now come on, Halfling. You must still surely be hungry after such a long journey."

Well, as a matter of fact, Bilbo was no longer famished but he knew he could eat more, he was a Hobbit after all and he'd gone without second breakfast for so long, "I suppose I am, my stomach is not quite full."

But this time instead of being able to pick and chose his own meal, Thranduil lent across the small space separating their dishes and placed all the foods to his liking onto Bilbo's plate. The latter pursed his lips slightly, maybe it was an Elven tradition in Mirkwood to bear your guests food of your choice?


	2. Chapter 2

When his plate was once again full of food, Thranduil slid it towards him a few inches. This time, instead of the side serving of fish, a thickly glazed wing and leg of a chicken were in it's place, with a large helping of salad to it's right, and an almost full roll of waybread. Bilbo's mouth still watered at the sight, once again, and he drained the rest of his wine glass, "Are you not to have anything to eat at all, Lord Thranduil?"

Thranduil's squinted for a second and then he just shook his head, "My party is later tonight, remember? To sate my hunger now would put the occasion's purpose to rest." He motioned with his hand, "But you go ahead. I've heard many things about the Halflings and their unsatable craving for food."

Bilbo figured a nod would be considered polite enough and drew his utensils up once again. The taste of everything was just as good as the first time he fed. He could savor the water suds on the bright lettuce leaves without worrying about taking supplies from the others, could sigh softly at lean white meat, and could collect up every crumb from his plate. 

Once his white, pristine plate was cleared for the second time, he could wholeheartedly say that he was as full as a Hobbit could be. 

Thranduil's next actions proved that the other seemed to disagree. 

The Elvenking, with tongs in hand, picked up more of the salad and placed it on his plate. The movements may have been graceful but were not enough to ignite any more hunger from inside Bilbo. Thinking back, he vaguely remembers one of the Elves at Rivendell telling him about how a loaf waybread -- or lembas as they called it -- could be enough to fill a fully grown man's stomach for a whole day. And while Hobbits are renowned for having not only first breakfast but second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, tea, dinner and supper, they can only fit so much into their stomachs, and two helpings of a bread that can fill a full grown man was enough, not to mention the added wine, meats and salad. 

Bilbo had to interrupt, "I'm very sorry and I'm grateful for your hospitality but I'm afraid that I can't fit much more in." 

Thranduil smiled again but his hand did not still, "We shall test how much _exactly_ then, Master Baggins. If we are to search for your friends tomorrow then you need all of your strength. If you are to be malnourished then that won't make you much help to anyone, yes?"

Reluctantly, Bilbo nodded and pulled back at the frown that threatened to surface, "It will not take much more to have me full, don't worry." 

Even though Bilbo said this, Thranduil still piled food upon food onto his plate and only seemed to stop when there was no white to be seen anymore. Bilbo swallowed thickly and steeled himself; if he could get through this next meal then the Elvenking would be sated and, hopefully, address some attention to his entrapped friends.

So he ate and ate and ate and ate until spoonfuls seemed to become ever-growing shovelfuls of food before his very eyes. He made sure to eat everything else before he made a move onto the waybread. On other occasions he could consider the bread treat to be a gift -- especially on their previous travels so far -- but right now it was proving to be tedious. Two mouthfuls of it already had him feeling slightly nauseous and he mourned the fact that he still had another decent seven mouthfuls until it was gone. 

He managed three more before the urge to retch made itself more pronounced, like a festering wound or the scream of a steaming kettle. 

Bilbo took his eyes off the small amount of food left (that seemed to be _so much_ more at the moment) to meet Thranduil's eyes. The other's gaze left him slightly startled, once blue eyes now seemed to be darkened and they were focused a little too intently on Bilbo and the food he was consuming. Well, in the Hobbits mental book at least. Maybe it was another tradition to ensure that your guest enjoyed the food while they ate? Honestly, Bilbo was unsure about anything either than the fact that his stomach felt like it was threatening to burst if he forced anything more down into it. 

Four more, okay, he could do four. With the greatest amount of speed that he could muster, he chewed and swallowed then chewed and swallowed then chewed and swallowed until he could safely say that he felt relief at the sight of the pale white of his plate once more. 

He opted for the clear jug of water instead this time, the bread drying his mouth out and the combination of foods leaving a bad aftertaste in his throat. 

Thranduil's smile still remained firmly planted on his face, one hand cradling his wine glass and then other, no, the other forking more food onto Bilbo's plate.

This time Bilbo just _had_ to exclaim how he physically _couldn't_ eat any more food, "I thank you once again, Thranduil, but I can't possibly fit anything more down, I'm sorry." 

The Elvenking hummed lightly and placed his glass onto the table. Before Bilbo could register the movements, Thranduil was leaning over his small frame with a crooked smirk, "You said it again, little Halfling."

Unsure, Bilbo blinked, "That I'm feeling quite full? Well, yes I'm pretty sure that--"

Thranduil interrupted him with a wave of hand and then he was gripping Bilbo's chin in between two long fingers, leaning impossibly closer, "Not that. You said my name again and yet I have not told you of it." He smiled, but it was not welcoming, "So that leaves me with two conclusions. Either the Dwarves in your company went to great extent to describe my features so that I would be recognizable when you asked them about Mirkwood, or you're not just 'merely' exploring Middle Earth and instead you are doing something that would warrant enough caution as to be warned about the supposed atrocious acts of me and my Elves." Thranduil paused and he raised a dark eyebrow, "I doubt the former is true because regardless of what is the truth, Thorin and his companions would not take pleasure in identifying every single feature that belonged to me unless he was explaining how he'd like to destroy them until I reached a bloody pulp, so that leaves the second option."

Bilbo tried to shake his head but the grip on his face only tightened, "It's not what--"

"Why are you here? And tell me honestly or something more _unfortunate_ may happen to you while you're in my presence."

"I'm telling the truth! We're only working our way through Middle Earth out of my own sense of curiosity!"

Thranduil just sighed, "If you're going to be like that then I suppose you should get eating again."

"W-What?" Bilbo stuttered, slowly trying to pull away.

"You will eat until you tell me the truth."

Bilbo spluttered, "But I can't eat any more, you've got to understand!"

If it was even possible, Thranduil leaned closer, crowding Bilbo back into his once welcoming chair. His face and shoulders were draped and shielded by a veil of thin, straight, blonde hair but all he wanted to do was maybe punch that smug face and run. 

The Elvenking's free hand came up to push his jacket open and flicked a single digit against the sole button holding his vest together, "Then I'll have to hand feed you myself then."

Bilbo's face reached the epitome of shock and he could only gape. Thranduil's hand on his face hooked behind his neck and it's opposite flattened out over his stomach. Thranduil sighed and palmed Bilbo through his shirt, flicking his eyes away from the latter down to look at his own hand, "I do admit that I'm rather curious about little Hobbits and their little bodies. We are eternal and do not suffer illnesses and plagues that human men do, and we are quite the opposite to Halflings. I bet your stomach is quite soft and round after all that food."

In their current position, Thranduil blocked Bilbo from grabbing the previously placed knife so he could only see one option if he was to escape. 

When long fingers made to undo his dark green waistcoat, Bilbo snapped and used all his strength, even if there was not much at the moment, to push Thranduil from his view. 

But the Elvenking did stumble back a few steps, not as much as Bilbo would have liked, but it was enough for him to propel his body off the chair and duck under the table. He quickly thrust the ring onto his finger, just seconds before Thranduil ducked to look under the wooden surface. Bilbo had to take a few steadying breaths -- fighting the oncoming threat of his food coming back up -- before he stumbled into the direction of the door. Thranduil was still looking under the table when he managed to pull the door open. As soon as it slammed, Thranduil called out for the guard outside to capture the escaping Hobbit. But by this time Bilbo was already half way down the next corridor, running against painful cramps.

His getaway was hardly what one would call 'swift' or 'planned' but he made it out of the small door he once came in through before anyone could catch him. 

Bilbo spent the rest of the night curled up outside Thorin's prison, not letting his presence be known until a many hours had passed. 

When he came back to himself -- stomach no longer feeling like it was going to reach the brink of combustion -- he saw the guard flat on the ground and the cell keys laying out in the open. He took them and that night they escaped the Mirkwood fortress.

The next time he met Thranduil he held his head high and forced all thoughts about their previous encounter out of his head. He was a Baggins of Bag End and he would not cower, his adventure had proved that and so did Sting at his side, he would not back away ever again.

 

 

a/n: and there is the end. i wanted to write more tummy!groping but if i continued then it would be reaching non-con areas and we best not traumatize poor bilbo any more than necessary ;u; thranduil was more fun to write than what i'd like to admit orz. 'twas my first shot at anything like it, so i best hope you guys like it~


End file.
